


A Different Call

by DawnieWrites



Series: Clintasha Week on Tumblr [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clintasha Week 2012, F/M, Fluff, Tumblr-ing it up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnieWrites/pseuds/DawnieWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2012 Day 1<br/>"That's my target? Christ Coulson, she's just a kid!"<br/>"She has a kill count higher than yours Agent Barton," Phil's voice reminded him. "Do not underestimate her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Call

" _That's_ my target?" Clint asked, eyeing the red-head dancing on stage from his seat in one of the front rows. "Christ Coulson, she's just a kid!"

" _She has a kill count higher than yours Agent Barton_ ," Phil's voice reminded him. " _Do_ not _underestimate her._ "

"Yeah, yeah, I know. She's dangerous and a lethal weapon and I read the debrief," Clint sighed as the music wound down and the lights dimmed on the dancers taking their final bows; he stood, clapping with the rest of the audience before slipping into the aisle and disappearing into the thickening crowd of departing patrons, escaping into the storage room where he had stashed his weapon and gear. He changed into his field-suit, strapping his quiver to his back and removing his recurve from its briefcase before climbing up into the air vent and following it to the roof where he found the perch he had scouted the day before, waiting for his target to exit from the back.

"I should have eyes on the target soon. I'm going radio silent."

" _Understood_." His earpiece fell silent and Clint unfolded his recurve, settling in to wait; he had been watching for the past week, waiting for an opportunity. The target always left the theater last, after everyone else was long gone. No-one knew what she was doing there, what her supposed end game was or if she had a target herself – maybe she just enjoyed dancing – but orders were orders and she was his target now.

An hour later, after the rest of the dancers and the maintenance men had left, he heard the door beneath him creak open one last time. He withdrew an arrow and knocked it in his bow, aiming for the space in the empty alleyway where he knew she'd be walking.

"YA znayu, chto vy tam," a distinctly feminine voice called, "Vy mozhete takzhe perestat' pryatat'sya." Clint frowned, not moving an inch; he refused to believe that there was any way for her to know that he was there.

"My iskali dlya vas na nekotoroye vremya, Natal'ya," a voice responded from the dark, causing Clint's eyes to widen slightly in surprise; he hadn't heard anyone approach.

"YA polagayu, chto vy nashli menya. No vy znayete, chto ya bol'she ne prinimayut zakazy ot Red Room"

"YA znayu."

"I ya bol'she ne prinimayut zakazy ot vas. Ili kto-nibud' yeshche"

"Togda vy znayete, pochemu my zdes'. " The redhead finally stepped into his line of sight, an ominous smile on her face. She was now dressed in a pair of fitted black pants and a turtleneck sweater, wedged boots on her feet and coat folded neatly over one arm, hair still rolled in a neat coif at the nape of her neck.

"Da. YA znayu." The coat dropped as two strangers stepped into the light, one of them obviously female based on her slight build.

"Why are bothering with words?" the strange woman asked in stilted English, causing the redhead's smile to widen.

"Neterpelivyy, ona by i net?"

"Pravda, ona ne chernaya vdova. Poka net." The man responded; he turned at just the right angle so that Clint could see his face and the man smiled, a soft smile that belied the violent nature hidden beneath the surface.

"After all," the stranger interrupted, "you are still alive." She moved, a knife sliding out of the sleeve of her uniform as she rushed the redhead. Clint watched from the rooftop as the redhead blocked the strike without even blinking; the fight is over before it's even begun, the younger woman on the ground with the redhead standing over her, flat-edge of the knife digging into her throat.

"Vy ne dolzhny byli tak staralsya byt' luchshim." And then she was dead, the blade of the knife drawn across her throat in a move so quick that if Clint had blinked, he would have missed it. The redhead stood up straight, turning to face the man.

"Sobirayetes' li vy ubit' menya seychas tozhe, Natal'ya?"

"Sobirayetes' li vy dat' mne prichinu, pochemu ya ne dolzhen?" The man just smiled again, stepping forward and leaning in to whisper something in the redhead's ear that draws a physical response from her; her eyes widened slightly and her fists clench at her side before the man disappeared from the alley. In that one instant, he made a different call; Clint flicked on the laser sight attached to his bow, just to alert the redhead to his presence.

"You finally decide to stop hiding then?" she called out softly, her English absolutely perfect, not a trace of an accent to be found.

"How long have you known I was here?"

"Since you started spying on me six days ago," she turned in the direction of the laser, face calm and impassive, hands now relaxed at her sides. "Well? Are you going to shoot me, or not?"Clint turned the laser sighting off, returning his arrow to the quiver just long enough to switch out tips before shooting a line across from the roof to anchor in the wall inches away from the redhead's face. He slid down the line and landed neatly on his feet in front of her.

"Not."

"American," she observed, her seemingly-relaxed stance a façade to all but the most trained and skilled in their field. "You were sent to kill me, am I wrong?"

"You're not; I was sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. They deemed you a threat the moment you popped up on their radar," he admitted with a wry smile. "But I've changed my mind." She tilted her head, encouraging him to continue, "I'd like to make you an offer, Natalia." The alley filled with a heavy silence before the redhead opened her mouth to speak, simultaneously raising her hands in submission.

"Call me Natasha." Clint's smile widened, hand lifting to re-activate his earpiece.

"Hawkeye to base; there's been a slight change of plans."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations
> 
> YA znayu, chto vy tam, Vy mozhete takzhe perestat' pryatat'sya. - I know you are out there. You may as well stop hiding.  
> My iskali dlya vas na nekotoroye vremya, Natal'ya. - We have been looking for you for awhile Natalia.  
> YA polagayu, chto vy nashli menya. No vy znayete, chto ya bol'she ne prinimayut zakazy ot Red Room. - I suppose that you have found me. But you know that I no longer take orders from Red Room.  
> YA znayu. - I know.  
> I ya bol'she ne prinimayut zakazy ot vas. Ili kto-nibud' yeshche. - And I no longer take orders from you. Or anyone else.  
> Togda vy znayete, pochemu my zdes'. - Then you know why we are here.  
> Da. YA znayu. - Yes. I know.  
> Neterpelivyy, ona by i net? - Impatient, is she not?  
> Pravda, ona ne chernaya vdova. Poka net. - True, she is no Black Widow. Not yet.  
> Vy ne dolzhny byli tak staralsya byt' luchshim. - You should not have tried so hard to be the best.  
> Sobirayetes' li vy ubit' menya seychas tozhe, Natal'ya? - Are you going to kill me now Natalia?  
> Sobirayetes' li vy dat' mne prichinu, pochemu ya ne dolzhen? - Are you going to give me a reason why I should not?


End file.
